Mother's Day Truth

The two 3am'ers

Call Your Mother.

There was a time when I was up at 3 a.m. changing diapers, warming bottles, rocking babies, and praying somebody would please go back to sleep before I lost my religion.

Now, some 40 years later, I’m still up at 3 a.m.

Not because a baby is crying.

Because I have to pee.

Life has a funny way of reminding you who is really in charge.

Those two people who ripped my bladder apart 40 years ago to come into the world are still calling the shots on my body like they own stock in it.

Motherhood is beautiful.Motherhood is sacred.Motherhood is a blessing.

Motherhood is also why I know exactly where every bathroom is in every building I enter.

Happy Mother’s Day to every woman who hosted life, lost sleep, found snacks in her purse, remembered everybody’s everything, and still somehow gets blamed for somebody’s missing socks.

Happy Mother’s Day to the women who gave birth.The women who adopted.The women who fostered.The aunties, grandmothers, godmothers, bonus mothers, church mothers, neighborhood mothers, and women who simply saw a child who needed love and said, “Come here, baby.”

Motherhood is not only biology. Sometimes it is paperwork. Sometimes it is sacrifice. Sometimes it is a bedroom made ready, a meal stretched, a backpack bought, a child defended, a prayer whispered, and a heart opened wider than planned.

Today I honor every woman who helped raise, rescue, steady, shelter, feed, guide, or love a child into the world.

Your challenge today?

Call your mother. Thank her. And for the love of all things holy, don't make her laugh too hard unless she’s already been to the bathroom.

Photo: My two 3 am’ers